


Sing Me Like a Choir

by ragingrainbow



Series: 100 Kinks Challenge [5]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Bottom Scott, Butt Plugs, Edging, Gags, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:49:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9510335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragingrainbow/pseuds/ragingrainbow
Summary: Mitch is the only one who will ever get to see Scott on his knees.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 100 Kinks Challenge Prompt #18: Opposite sex (e.g. change who gives and receives).
> 
> Betad by silentdescant. 
> 
> Title from BITE by Troye Sivan.

Scott needs to know what it feels like. The realization has been brewing for a few weeks now - but it’s not until their box of newly ordered toys arrives that it hits him. He needs to know what he’ll be doing to Mitch, needs to understand how it makes Mitch feel.

He’s expecting Mitch to arrange a date with some Dom friend of his - Mitch knows several - but when he broaches the subject Mitch seems to find it natural for him to be the one Scott gives up control to. Scott is relieved, having secretly harboured the fantasy of Mitch being the only one who’ll ever get to see him on his knees.

He reminds himself of this fantasy as he waits, kneeling in the center of Mitch’s bed. He’s blindfolded, but he knows Mitch is still in the room - _watching him_ \- and he strains to hear Mitch’s calm breaths. He matches his own breaths to Mitch’s, lets each one bring him a little further towards submission. He bows his head, lets his tense muscles relax.

The bed dips then, and Mitch rests a hand at the nape of Scott’s neck, splayed wide. In the dark, Scott’s other senses are enhanced, and he feels the heat of Mitch’s hand, feels the pads of Mitch’s fingers where they rest against his skin.

“Okay?” Mitch asks, stroking his thumb over Scott’s nape.

Scott shudders. He doesn’t know what Mitch is going to do to him, and that fact scares him as much as it arouses him, yet his answer can’t be anything but _“Yes.”_

Mitch pushes him down until his chest is flush against the bed, his ass still lifted. Scott has to fight the urge to struggle when Mitch knees his legs further apart - he _wants_ this, but the feeling of vulnerability is unfamiliar, frightening and exciting in equal parts.

Mitch’s fingers skim over his hole, and it suddenly feels like too much, too fast. Scott clutches at the sheets, resisting the urge to whine. He tries to focus on breathing, feeling jittery and untethered until Mitch rubs a warm hand up and down his back. Mitch’s voice is soft when he speaks.

“Scott? You’re doing good, sweetheart. Just relax for me.”

Scott clings to the instruction, relaxing his body and easing his grip on the sheets. Mitch’s fingers keep skimming up and down his spine, until Scott becomes sensitized enough to shudder at the touch.

“Wow. You’re so beautiful like this,” Mitch murmurs, and his words spread heat throughout Scott’s body, makes his stomach flutter.

Scott’s ready for it when Mitch’s fingers press against his hole again, cool and slick with lube. Only one finger slips into him - Scott hasn’t bottomed in a while, and unlike Mitch he doesn’t enjoy the pain of being stretched too fast. They’ve done this before, and Scott lets himself sink into the familiarity of it, into the thrumming pleasure of being taken. He doesn’t feel owned, not the way he imagines Mitch does, but at this particular moment he’s happy to be at Mitch’s mercy.

Mitch fucks him gently with that one finger, staying clear of his prostate in a way that must be intentional. Scott groans in frustration, rocks his hips to get Mitch’s finger deeper. Pricks of pain flare in his right asscheek - teeth, he realizes - and he sucks in a sharp breath. Mitch’s tongue soothes the mark as Scott stills his hips, almost like a reward.

“That’s better. No moving.” Mitch’s voice is not as soft now, betraying a hint of dominance. It makes Scott want more, makes him long for things he never knew he wanted.

“Sorry,” Scott gasps, just as Mitch pushes a second finger into him.

Mitch’s taking his time, still avoiding his prostate as he stretches Scott. It takes all of Scott’s willpower just to keep still, and he almost wishes he was tied up, just to have something to struggle against. He’s wearing Mitch’s cuffs, but so far Mitch doesn’t seem inclined to restrain him. Scott tries to focus on the feel of them instead, letting the pressure and weight of the soft leather anchor him.

Scott jerks in surprise when the fingers of Mitch’s other hand brush his cock. The touch is so light it almost tickles, but he responds instantly, leaking precome. He can’t help but whine then, and apparently that’s what Mitch has been waiting for, because he promptly removes both his hands. Scott breathes through the urge to protest, repeating _“keep still, keep still”_ in his head like a mantra.

Something else presses against Scott’s hole then, larger and more unyielding than Mitch’s fingers. It must be one of the new plugs, probably the smallest one. It hadn’t looked threatening at all when they unpacked them, but it sure feels big as it’s pushing into him.

Scott forces himself to relax and accept the intrusion. He’s never actually worn a plug before; once it’s fully seated he’s taken aback by how full he feels. He needs a moment to breathe, and Mitch is one step ahead of him, rubbing his hip while murmuring reassuring words.

“Don’t come yet,” Mitch warns, before he starts stroking Scott’s cock with practiced fingers.

The drawback to Mitch having spent weeks focused solely on Scott’s pleasure is that he now knows all the tricks to getting Scott off quickly. Within moments he has stroked Scott to full hardness, and Scott clenches his jaw, fingers scrambling for purchase. For a moment his only thought is to follow Mitch’s order, until Mitch stops jerking him as suddenly as he started.

Mitch’s fingers are in his hair now, and Scott whimpers at the sudden pain when he pulls. Scott is forced to sit up, unsteady and slightly disoriented. The plug shifts as he moves, it’s pressing against his prostate now, and he gasps as sensation prickles at the base of his spine.

“Stay,” Mitch murmurs, before releasing Scott’s hair, fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake as he runs his hand slowly from Scott’s scalp to his left wrist.

Mitch clips the cuff on Scott’s wrist onto the one on his ankle, before trailing his fingers across Scott’s lower back - just above his ass - to do the same thing on the other side.

“Color?” Mitch prompts, pressing a kiss to the top of Scott’s spine.

Scott strains a little, testing the hold of the cuffs. He’s never been restrained for sex before, wasn’t quite prepared for the sense of helplessness that washes over him. He takes a few steadying breaths to come up with an answer.

“Green,” he responds, leaning back against the secure warmth of Mitch’s chest. This may be new and a little scary, but he’d trust Mitch with his life.

“You’re doing great,” Mitch reassures him, before he reaches around Scott to stroke his cock.

Mitch is going slower this time, long strokes with a twist at the end, the way Scott does it himself when he wants to make it last. It still doesn’t take long for Scott to be _so close_ , and then Mitch squeezes the base of his cock, stopping his orgasm in its tracks. Scott’s hips jerk up, chasing the retreating pleasure, before he gets control of himself and goes lax again.

“That’s it, so good,” Mitch murmurs, kissing the back of his shoulder. He almost wants Mitch to bite him, give him something to focus on other than his throbbing dick. Mitch drags his nails up Scott’s length instead, and Scott fights to swallow the wordless pleas threatening to escape. Mitch runs his hands up and down Scott’s sides, soothing him.

Mitch doesn’t return to jerking him immediately - his hands travel upwards first to tease Scott’s nipples, before exploring the expanse of his stomach and as much of his thighs as they can reach. Scott’s erection doesn’t flag at all, if anything the respite makes him _more_ desperate, and he struggles against the restraints, wishing he could touch himself. It’s a relief to be denied the choice to do so, because Scott realizes through the desperation that he _wouldn’t_ , even if he could, and he is not quite ready to admit that. He’s pretty sure Mitch knows though, and is looking out for Scott by anticipating his needs, the way Scott does for him.

Mitch’s hand is back on his dick, pace quicker this time, his other hand moving from Scott’s hip to play with his balls. Scott sucks in a quick breath as he does his best to stave off his fast approaching orgasm, and his head lolls back against Mitch’s shoulder as he forces his body to relax into the feeling.

“There you go, I know what you need, just relax.”

Mitch’s words pull a wretched whimper from Scott, as Mitch denies his orgasm yet again to highlight his words. Scott doesn’t struggle this time, but has to bite his lip hard to stop himself from cursing. Edging may have been one of only a few things on his list of what he felt comfortable letting Mitch do, but right now he would almost take a flogging over the frustration of denial.

“Color?” Mitch prompts again, his fingers tracing over the place Scott bruised his own bottom lip, demonstrating that it didn’t escape his notice.

“Green”, Scott stammers, although he is not quite as sure of himself as he was last time. He needs something more, but he doesn’t know what, and he trusts Mitch to figure it out for him.

Mitch presses the tip of his thumb past Scott’s lips, and holds it there for a moment before he asks, “Would you like the gag, sweetheart?”

“Please,” Scott begs, choking on the word. He flushes with a heady mix of shame and arousal, not used to being the one who begs. The prospect of the gag making any pleas that slip out unintelligible brings a promise of safety.

Mitch drops a kiss on his shoulder. “Good boy. Be right back”

Mitch presses the gag to Scott’s lips a few moments later, and Scott opens up for it without hesitation. Mitch has chosen the ball gag and it holds Scott mouth open, makes it hard to swallow. Scott feels a trickle of saliva roll down his chin.

“Okay?” Mitch asks, fingers skimming Scott’s cock again.

Scott instinctively tries to respond verbally - and it’s not until that moment he realizes how utterly helpless he is now; bound, gagged, and blinded. For a few beats he’s not sure he _is_ okay, and he’s ready to shake his head and end this when Mitch eases his hand into Scott’s right one.

“Scott? I’ve got you, okay? Just hold onto me, you’re fine, I’ve got you.”

Mitch’s tone is so sure, and Scott’s reminded that Mitch knows what he’s doing, that Mitch would never wilfully endanger Scott. He clings to Mitch’s hand and reminds himself of Mitch’s words earlier - of Mitch reassuring him submission is scary, especially the first time, and the panic eases a little with each slow breath he manages around the gag.

Scott squeezes Mitch’s hand once he feels calm again, and Mitch squeezes back reassuringly before letting go. His hand settles on Scott’s hip for the moment, fingers splayed tantalizingly close to his cock, pulling Scott’s focus back to his arousal. Panic made him flag to half hard, but he knows it’s not going to take much for Mitch to bring him back to the brink. Not now that the excitement of truly being at Mitch’s mercy is thrumming through his veins.

“You’re so hot like this,” Mitch murmurs, breath hot against Scott’s ear. “Will you be noisy for me now?” He pulls Scott’s earlobe between his teeth after the question, and Scott’s only possible response is the moan around the gag.

“Oh yes, so good for me,” Mitch says, before his hand comes back to Scott’s dick.

Scott finds that it really is easier to let himself be noisy with the gag blocking it out. It feels more like he is struggling against the gag - the same way he struggles against the cuffs - rather than him being unable to control his own noises. And struggle he does in his helplessness as Mitch brings him right to the edge and denies him four more times; not so much because he wants to get free, but because Mitch keeps whispering to him how hot this is, and how much he enjoys Scott’s struggling.

Mitch doesn’t pull away completely that fourth time, alternating between trailing fingers over Scott’s length and squeezing the base instead. Scott shudders with each touch, and he can’t stop his hips from jerking or the helpless whining, but he no longer cares, even if he feels drool roll down his chin. All he cares about is pleasing Mitch, and maybe, hopefully, being rewarded.

As Scott settles into the acceptance of just taking whatever Mitch wants to give him it gets easier to relax into the need coursing through him. He barely has the energy to struggle anymore, and he collapses against Mitch’s chest; still shuddering as Mitch continues playing with him.

“That’s it, you want to come, don’t you?” Mitch kisses his shoulder, his ear, the side of his neck. Mitch starts jerking him with sure, firm strokes again, and Scott nods desperately, tries to articulate _‘please’_ around the gag.

“Yes, you’ve been so good for me, sweetheart, I want you to come.”

The permission is like a switch, suddenly enabling Scott to let go of tightly held control, and his orgasm hits hard enough to steal both his breath and any rational thought. The only thing that registers is that Mitch is there, holding him and whispering praise - Scott can’t make out the words, but his voice holds a note of reverence, making it obvious he’s proud of Scott.

Mitch keeps stroking him until Scott finds it in himself to make a weak noise of protest - it’s long past the point of being pleasurable, but he _likes_ it, feels proud at himself for taking it.

Mitch releases the cuffs and helps Scott lie down, before he removes the gag, the cuffs, the blindfold, and finally the plug - which surprisingly feels smaller coming out than it did going in. Scott blinks his eyes open slowly while Mitch cleans him up with the washcloth they always have handy.

Mitch is done and smiling down at Scott once Scott readjusts to the light enough to open his eyes properly.

“You did so great, I’m so proud of you,” Mitch says, and Scott gets why his own words of praise always has Mitch preening. He settles for just grinning up at Mitch, and Mitch looks so _fond_ that Scott’s heart flutters.

Mitch leans down to kiss him, and Scott is still content to just take it; the kiss is demanding and quite different from how Mitch usually kisses.

Scott’s eyes fall to Mitch’s collar - which Mitch had insisted on wearing - and he reaches up to trave his fingers along it.

“I am too, you know. Proud of you.”

Mitch’s response is simply another kiss.


End file.
